Fireplaces, Blue Birds & Pennies

I thought it was our cat, chirping and clattering at the fireplace early this morning. Eventually my brain logged the absurdity of that conclusion and forced me to investigate….

*

The night before we closed on this home, I had a dream my husband and I were looking at houses. As we arrived at the one in the dream, a kind man arose from his gardens and welcomed us. His yard was beautiful. Meticulous in every way, each blade of grass vibrant and trimmed to perfection. The flowers were perfect and practically glowing. He apologized that his wife wasn’t quite ready to see us. He took my husband into the backyard and showed him the old shed. He apologized for it being in such poor shape, but figured a fella with his talent could make easy work of the repairs. I peeked in the garage, equally well organized and held in regard as the grounds.

Eventually I woke from the unremarkable dream and went about our day. On the way to closing, the man popped into my head and said ‘My wife is nervous to meet you. Talk to her about gardening.’ And in that split second I realized the meaning of the dream…the former owner, was welcoming us to his home and he was still here with me as we prepared to meet his wife for the first time and take ownership of his life’s work.

We’d fought hard for this home, or rather our incredible realtor did. It wasn’t an easy journey. It was for sale by owner and the bereaved wife and her son were struggling to see eye to eye. It took months to come to terms, and many other families had been turned away by either the sellers or the complications of the transaction. I prayed often for the deal to go through, if it was in our best and highest good.

As I walked into the closing room that day, I expected an angry woman who might avoid eye contact, assuming she’d model the same behavior we experienced in the negotiations. But instead she stood and tears started falling from her face. “I’m so sorry, so very sorry.”

We hugged and sat down as she poured out her apologies for how difficult this process had been. After her heart was clear, I asked about her gardens. The light that came to her eyes was incredible. She pulled out her phones and showed me photo after photo of her husnband’s handiwork. That’s right - the gardens were his, not hers as I’d assumed. Just like the dream.

At that point in my life I wasn’t willing to accept that I was a medium. So there was no way I was going to tell a stranger, in a room full of strangers, that her husband had visited me in a dream, or told me to talk to her about gardens. I was still struggling with the shock that this was happening at all.

She told me she knew we were the right owners for the house the moment she got our letter. She just knew her Roddy would have wanted us to have this house. I thanked her for that and promised to keep his tradition alive as best I could during my time here.

Later that night we stopped by the house just to look around as owners for the first time. As I fumbled for my keys in the dark, I got a tightening in my chest and a fear that ‘someone’ was inside. I prepared myself to ‘see’ spirit…an experience not uncommon in my life, but at this point, something I still feared and didn’t fully trust.

Sure enough, as I opened the door and glanced into the living room, I saw a shadowy figure standing by the fireplace and as the flood of butterflies hit my stomach, so did the ‘knowing’ of its message. There was something in the fireplace.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, calmed my nervous system and found my flashlight. As I opened my eyes and got accustomed to the light, the figure was gone. I walked over the fireplace in this otherwise completely empty house and looked inside.

Tucked in the inner corner on the left hand side was a small cigar box. You wouldn’t know it was there unless you were looking for it. Sealed inside were two of my most sacred symbols - wheat pennies. My grandfather collected wheat pennies for my brother and I and I’ve long held belief that when I find them, he’s there with me.

I imagined my Grandfather and Rod both conspiring from the heavens to bring us this house, and tucking wheat pennies - of all things - into the fireplace as a happy little sign to celebrate their handiwork.

*

So, as I shined my flashlight into the fireplace again this morning, I was less surprised as I was delighted to see a beautiful bluebird sitting on the andiron. His little head twisted in curiosity at the source of the light.

Sure, it could have merely been an accident. But life is much richer and meaningful if it’s more than that. And thankfully, I get to choose.

Bluebirds are symbols of joy, happiness, transformation, growth and renewal. The Pima People have a beautiful legend that the bluebird was once an ugly bird that stumbled upon a magical lake and bathed in its mystical water. It was transformed into the bluebird as a reward for not fearing the sea of change.

I needed that message today. I needed a chance to go into emergency mode with my kids as we playfully strategized a way to safely save ‘Bluebirdy’ (as he was dubbed by my 5 year old), keeping him safe from our treacherous pets in the process.

I needed to save something, as I can’t save my father. I needed a moment of joy with my kids, to remind me to keep my spirits up. I needed to remember not to fear the seas of change, as they’ll be here soon enough. And spirit needed to remind me that their most powerful messages, come through my chimney, apparently.